The Dystopian King

A poem in response to debates regarding cutting funds towards the arts.

Submitted: June 20, 2016

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Submitted: June 20, 2016

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The Dystopian King

High up in your castle, you lord it over the passionate.
Squabbling in the safety of splendours,
Ignorant to all but ornate.
But for a moment, did you consider
The nature behind your throne of thorns?
Even dogs reject the ways of the philistine –
Their art is that of playful mirth –
While yours is that of scorn.

Alas!
Ignorance robs you of the simple pleasures;
Of life, of wonders, of hidden treasures.
Fattened by hate is the Dystopian King,
(Whose belt has seen better days)
Abhorring the creation that nursed his very cradle.

So, stay within your corrupted castle
And hide behind your walls.
No longer shall you render us weak.
For we are the Creators
The makers
Not the meek.